Moonlight shone on tombstone edges,
the wind whipped the leaves spookily.
The night lingered and made fun of the morning,
as all it knew best was bitter-scorning.
Bleak and cold, were the words etched,
names, were they all mostly forgotten?
Brittle bones, deep below and resting,
silent songbirds were snuggling sadly and nesting.
The night felt like a thousand years,
to a thousand tears that cried up at the stars.
Suddenly, the sun, she rode in on gold and white glory,
piercing the night’s folly and hopelessness.
Tombstone edges felt new bravery,
the names were remembered in the light!
Flowers of fame and delight sprouted,
on the bosoms of those who thought they were dead forever.
About the Creator
Rowan Finley
Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
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One Scoop More
We can have faith to move mountains…but sometimes faith is picking up a shovel and moving the mountain one shovel full at a time throughout the course of our lifetimes. It could take our whole life to move just one mountain but we are given great grace and strength to move it. The mustard seed in the tiny bottle tied around your neck is just as powerful for you as it is for the other person’s mountain that moved in just but a few moments.
By Rowan Finley 3 years ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Ooooh, this one gave me that spooky chills turned hopeful warmth kind of vibe! I’ll never look at a sunrise the same way again! 😆